


Origin of Love

by kiite



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Canon, more tags to be added. eventually, talking about feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:07:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22768258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiite/pseuds/kiite
Summary: Collection of short Sanji relationship fics, both romantic and platonic.Very open to requests!Ch 1: Sanji/Usopp // Ch 2: Sanji/Ace // Ch 3: Sanji/Gin // Ch 4: Sanji & Zoro // Ch 5: Sanji/Usopp // Ch 6: Sanji/Usopp // Ch 7: Sanji/Luffy // Ch 8: Sanji & Usopp // Ch 9: Sanji & Zoro
Relationships: Gin/Vinsmoke Sanji, Monkey D. Luffy/Vinsmoke Sanji, Portgas D. Ace/Vinsmoke Sanji, Roronoa Zoro & Vinsmoke Sanji, Usopp & Vinsmoke Sanji, Usopp/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 103
Kudos: 271





	1. Mend (Sanji/Usopp)

**Author's Note:**

> check the notes at the end for.. u kno.. more stuff (request info is down there)

Sanji blinked, staring up into the darkness of the men’s cabin. At some point he had rolled onto the floor, the cold wood beneath him not particularly conducive to a good night's sleep. He sighed, fingers itching for a cigarette. Guess that was all the sleep he was getting.

Rising from his prone position, Sanji looked around as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. The gentle— and not so gentle— snores of his crewmates brought a slight smile to his face; he hadn’t realized how much he enjoyed sleeping in a room with other people until he had spent two years on his own. Scanning the room, he noted that Usopp was absent. _That’s right_ , Sanji thought, _he was taking watch tonight…_

Excusing himself from the cabin, Sanji shivered as the burst of wind cut through his dress shirt. He hugged himself, running his hands up and down his arms in an attempt to keep the chill out. _I bet it’s warm up in the crow’s nest,_ Sanji pondered, tipping his head up to look at the small, enclosed room. _Maybe Usopp wouldn’t mind some company?_

The climb felt much longer than it was. On the ladder, Sanji was completely exposed to the vicious winds. His hands gripped the rungs tightly, the cold metal burning into his palms. After what felt like hours, Sanji reached the top and pulled himself into the crow’s nest. 

From across the room, Usopp was staring at him, slightly startled. He clearly wasn’t expecting a visitor. Sanji turned to face him, but stayed where he was. 

“You mind if I smoke?” Sanji asked in lieu of a greeting, knocking on the window behind him.

“Uh, yeah— Go ahead?” Usopp replied, clearly confused by Sanji’s presence. To be fair, Sanji wasn’t usually one to seek out company. Especially when he smoked, Sanji seemed to relish in the few moments of alone time he could manage on the crowded ship.

Sanji cracked the window slightly, as not to fully let in the cold. He took a long drag off his cigarette and turned to exhale out the window, feeling his nerves settle down a bit. His eyes caught on the garment Usopp was fumbling with. It looked as though he was trying to hide it, to little success.

“Is that my suit jacket?” Sanji questioned, quirking his brow. He had hoped to come off as more curious than accusatory, but Usopp still jumped like he had been snuck up on by a marine.

“Yeah, I, uh…” Usopp fidgeted a bit, and Sanji noticed the small needle he was holding. “I noticed the shoulder seam got torn in the fight earlier, so I thought I’d fix it up for you. Not that I think you can’t do it yourself or anything! It was just, you know, I had all this time on watch, so I just thought—“ 

Sanji closed the distance between them, stopping when he was next to Usopp. The other man seemed to flinch slightly when Sanji approached, but the cook ignored it. He leaned over to examine Usopp’s handiwork. 

“You’re really good at that,” Sanji commented, admiring Usopp’s even stitching. “Much better than I am.” 

Usopp flushed, instinctively leaning back a bit. “You think so?” he asked, smiling. “Well, a great warrior of the sea has to be great at lots of things, not just fighting! Had plenty of time to get good at it, haha…” 

“Thanks for fixing it, Captain,” Sanji said with a soft smile, the kind he saved for moments of genuine affection, like when Chopper helped him in the kitchen or Luffy did something endearingly stupid. 

Usopp grinned, poking his thumb into his chest proudly. “Of course! Captain Usopp always looks after his dear subordinates!” He returned his focus to the jacket in his lap, determination lining his features. “Almost done, just a few more…”

Sanji was about to reply when a shiver ran through him. He turned back to his abandoned window on the other side of the room. Making his way over to it, Sanji paused briefly to snub out his cigarette and toss it out to the sea below before shutting the window. 

He could feel Usopp’s eyes following him as he seated himself next to the sniper, leaning back on the bench. “You look exhausted,” Sanji noted nonchalantly, meeting the man’s gaze out of the corner of his eyes.

Usopp laughed, pulling the needle through the fabric. “Do I look that bad?” he asked, bags evident under his eyes. “I’ve been pulling a few too many all-nighters, I guess. Trying to finish up a few new inventions.”

“Should have asked me to switch watch nights with you,” Sanji remarked, staring out at the moon’s reflection on the waves. “You look like you need a good night’s sleep. I’m already up for the day, so I can take over. You can grab a few hours, at least.”

“You sure?” Usopp asked, sounding unsure of himself. He was about to argue, maybe insist that Sanji go back to bed, but Sanji shot him a look that shut him up. “Well, if you say so… I’m going to finish this up first, though. Can’t talk me out of that!”

Sanji just hummed, and the two sat together in comfortable silence. The ocean rocked them gently, the motion making Sanji feel safe and oddly grounded. He had lived on the sea since he was young, and he found it hard to sleep without the familiar comforts of the ocean. 

“I really missed you, you know.” Usopp spoke up, breaking the silence. He had finished mending the jacket, folding it neatly and placing it on the bench beside him. After a moment, heat rushed to his face and he jerked his head to the side, looking away from Sanji. “I mean, I— _all_ of you! I missed all of you! After all, what’s a captain without his brave subordinates, right?”

“I missed you shitty bastards too,” Sanji said, smiling. “But…” he reached out, gently holding Usopp’s chin and turning the sniper back towards him, so their eyes met once more. “I think I missed a certain bastard most of all.” 

Usopp blinked, making no move to pull his face out of Sanji’s grasp. “Is it me?”

With a snort, Sanji playfully pushed Usopp away. “Of course it’s you, idiot.” 

Usopp grinned, scooting closer and leaning against the cook. In a matter of minutes he was out cold, his head resting on Sanji’s shoulder as he snored softly. Sanji couldn’t contain the affection that spread through him at the sight. 

It was good to be back.


	2. Cat Burglary (Sanji/Ace)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remembered that Germa 66 has that big cat that pulls their carriage (who is apparently named Nyasha). lo and behold

Sanji sat down on his childhood bed, the ancient springs creaking loudly beneath him. He glanced at the boxes stacked around him; packing his things had made him realize how few things he actually had. There were a few boxes of clothing— those were the majority— two hefty ones labelled “books”, and a single box of items he considered of personal significance. A bit scarcer than any other nineteen-year-old’s room, he figured.

He was grateful for his foresight in scheduling his moving day when his family was gone. It was a holiday weekend, so, as per usual, Judge had jetted off to some upscale tourist trap with his kids— minus Sanji, of course. Not that Sanji wanted to go; if he had to spend days cooped up in close contact with those assholes, he’d kill himself in the hotel room and ruin Judge’s deposit.  _ Not the worst way to end a family vacation,  _ he thought.

Had his brothers been here, they would certainly have been tripping him nonstop and throwing his possessions out the window, laughing like the shitheads they are. His sister would have sat idly by, probably wanting to say something but without the nerve to actually do it. So Sanji chose the smart route: wait until they were all out of the house, and then move out without telling any of them. 

Judge was the kind of man who prided himself on having everyone under his thumb. If Sanji had told him his plans to leave— well, more likely screamed them at him, as their conversations usually went— Judge would have taken measures to prevent it. And if Judge had found out that he was leaving to move in with his boyfriend that Sanji had neglected to mention before, well… he might have just strangled Sanji on the spot. 

There were no details of Sanji’s personal life that Judge had earned the right to hear about. His friends, his coworkers, his boyfriend… Judge would certainly consider them all bad influences— Ace especially, for “turning his son gay”, or something. In reality, they were the reasons he was still hanging on, after all of his shitty family’s bullshit. They were the best damn influences he’d ever seen.

Getting back to his feet, Sanji hefted up two boxes of clothing and headed out of the room, peering around the boxes cautiously as he walked to avoid tripping. He made it out to the yard safely, mood brightening significantly at the sight of the obnoxiously colored pickup truck sitting in the driveway.  _ Good ol’ Petunia, _ Sanji thought with a fond smile. He liked the truck more than his entire family combined. She had never done him dirty.

As he tossed the boxes into Petunia’s bed, Ace’s head popped out of the driver’s side window and craned around to look at Sanji. “You sure you don’t need any help in there? I’m pretty good at lifting, you know.” If Ace hadn’t been in the car, he certainly would have swept Sanji up in his arms for emphasis. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

“Thanks, but there’s only a few more boxes. I can handle it,” Sanji answered with a wave of his hand. In truth, he didn’t really want Ace to have to set foot in that awful, cold house; there were probably things he’d want to ask about, and Sanji was in a hurry to forget everything about this place. He patted Petunia’s flame-decaled side, smiling at Ace. “Keep her running for me, yeah?” 

“Sure thing!” Ace responded, giving him a thumbs up and pulling his head back in. 

Sanji headed back in, making a few more trips until he was down to his last box. As he headed for the doorway, and his freedom from this god awful place, a meow stopped him in his tracks.  _ Oh, right,  _ Sanji thought, setting the box down momentarily.  _ Nyasha… _

Nyasha was Judge’s show cat. A purebred Turkish Angora with an illustrious pedigree, Judge entered her in all kinds of cat shows across the country. She had a number of awards from many victories at shows; in all regards, she was more accomplished than Sanji would probably ever be, in Judge’s eyes at least. 

But as with anything he took care of— to varying extents— Nyasha was nothing more than a tool for Judge to collect accolades. The cat had always favored Sanji, as he— and on occasion, Reiju— was the only one who spent any time with her. She’d brought Sanji great comfort when he was young, and he liked to think that she found some comfort in him as well.

_ Judge doesn’t deserve you,  _ Sanji thought bitterly as he reached out to scratch under the cat’s chin. She leaned into the touch, purring loudly.  _ He doesn’t deserve either of us. _

Something clicked suddenly, and he didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it earlier. He hurried his final box out to the truck, before running up to the driver’s side window. Ace looked up from his phone in surprise, setting it down and turning to face Sanji.

“All done in there?”

“Hey, you got extra cat stuff at your place?” Sanji asked, ignoring the question.

“Uh,” Ace blinked, working through the implications of the question. “I’ve still got plenty, yeah.”

“Is Kotatsu okay with other cats?” 

“Probably,” Ace said, thinking hard about it. “He’s been around other animals before, and he’s always behaved himself. Why?” 

“I wanna bring a cat with me,” Sanji stated bluntly, hands on the window frame. “Is that alright?”

Ace grinned, leaning forward to press a kiss on to Sanji’s forehead. “Why the hell not? The more the merrier!” 

Sanji laughed, leaning up himself to give Ace a quick kiss on the cheek. He rushed back inside, gathering up the cat carrier and a few other things for Nyasha. Years of training made her willing to enter the carrier of her own volition, and it was only a few minutes before Sanji was darting out of the door and into the passenger seat. 

Ace peered around to get a look into the carrier, whistling. “That’s one pretty cat you got there. You sure Judge won’t miss her?”

Sanji laughed, holding the carrier secure in his lap. “Oh, he’s gonna be  _ pissed  _ when he gets back. This cat is  _ way _ more important to him than I am.”

Adjusting his mirrors, Ace hummed as he pulled out of the driveway. “Well, you know best. I’m happy to have her.” He glanced at Sanji out of the corner of his eye, smiling. “Even happier to have you, if I’m bein’ honest.”

Red dusted Sanji’s face, the words going straight to the romantic in him. As they drove away, with Petunia rattling in that familiar way of hers, it was finally starting to sink in that Sanji wouldn’t have to go back to that place anymore. He wouldn’t have to see those people, or do what they told him. It was the beginning of a new chapter for him, and for Nyasha. 

“Happy to be here,” Sanji murmured, leaning back into the worn seat. And it was true; he  _ was  _ happy, happier than he’d been in ages. Being with Ace always made him happy. “I’ll try not to bring home any other animals without a bit more discussion.” 

Ace laughed, reaching a hand over to mess up Sanji’s hair without taking his eyes off the road. “You know I can never say no to you, anyways.” 


	3. Hospitality (Sanji/Gin)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for Junemel!
> 
> can’t lie, this one was supposed to be twice as long and also get kinda weird/sad, but the latter half just wasn’t comin to me so I scrapped it. just kno this is significantly post canon, can be interpreted as platonic or romantic. sorry it ended up so short tho!

Sanji wiped down the bar, the last customers leaving as closing time rolled around. Golden rays of sunset filtered through the numerous windows lining the walls of the restaurant, bathing it in an ethereal light. Normally, he’d keep the place open well into the night, but he always closed up early on Sundays.

At the gentle tinkling of the entrance bell, Sanji called out without looking up from his work. “Sorry, we’re closed for the night.”

“Even for me?” A self-assured voice answered back, and Sanji jerked his head up in annoyance to tell whoever it was that he didn’t make exceptions— except maybe for one of his old crew members— but the words died on his tongue at the sight of the man before him. Sanji couldn’t keep the surprised expression off his face; the years had been kind to his visitor, almost to the point of unrecognizability. Sanji shoved his rag into his apron pocket and whistled.

“Damn, Gin, is that you? Almost didn’t recognize you, now that you don’t look like death warmed over.” The heavy bags once under his eyes were gone, and he no longer had the air of a man three steps from death’s door. “You even managed to grow a bit of a beard. I’m impressed.”

Gin smiled, seating himself on a bar stool. “Look who’s talkin’! Thought I had walked into the wrong place for a sec, with all that shit on your face. And, man, your  _ hair,”  _ he said, gesturing to Sanji’s long ponytail that rested over his shoulder and cascaded down the front of his suit. “Never thought you’d be the kinda guy to grow it out like that!” 

“Eh, you know,” Sanji said, mindlessly moving to comb his fingers through his ponytail, “Gotta change it up every once in a while. I wasn’t joking about closing, though— why’re you here?”

Gin scoffed, folding his arms on the bar. “Is that how you treat all your old friends?” He leaned forward, a slight smile pulling at the edges of his lips. “C’mon, let’s catch up over some food. I wanna see how much better you’ve gotten.” 

Sanji frowned, turning his back to the other man and the bar briefly. “Then you can come try it during business hours, like everyone else.” He paused, scanning through the labels of the bottles on the rack. “Besides, you lost your free food privileges when you broke like six of my ribs.”

“Ah, that—” Gin started, pausing to think his words over. “Yeah, I’m… still sorry about that.” 

“I’m joking. I’ll see what I have in the kitchen,” Sanji replied without turning back to his guest.

“Oh,” Gin said, still looking guilty. “You didn’t get any better at conversation, huh.” 

“Shut up before I change my mind.” 

“Sure thing, Chef.” 


	4. Midnight Chat (Sanji & Zoro)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Junemel! 
> 
> some good platonic zoro Nd sanji, caring about each other a little but doing it pretty bad. Got a lil rambly but when doesnt my stuff amirite

Clear nights were not necessarily a rarity out in the Grand Line, but they were certainly a welcome break from the unpredictable weather Sanji had become accustomed to. His eyes traced the stars, the same ones he’d watched all his life. Standing with his back against the railing, Sanji puffed out a bit of smoke and closed his eyes.

Insomnia wasn’t anything new to Sanji. He had had trouble sleeping for as long as he could remember, and on occasion, the nights he was able to fall asleep were interrupted by violent nightmares. Sanji didn’t allot much time for sleeping to begin with, so he didn’t consider it all that much of a loss. 

Sanji glanced skyward at the crow’s nest. If he remembered the schedule, Brook was probably up there. Sanji had considered seeking out his company, as he enjoyed chatting with the skeletal man, but he had decided against it. Company didn’t sound all that appealing to him right now; more than anything, Sanji just wanted to smoke in peace until the sun rose, and then go start breakfast.

Unfortunately, Sanji never seemed to get what he wanted. The door to the men’s dorm swung open, and the last person Sanji wanted to see limped out, closing the door behind him before flopping down on the deck.

“You look like some weird algae growing on the bottom of the boat crawled it’s way to the deck,” Sanji said with a sneer, bringing his cigarette to his lips once more. That was what constituted a greeting when it came to speaking to Zoro, though Sanji had no idea why he chose to engage the other man rather than sneaking off.

Zoro turned his head towards Sanji, clearly displeased by the discovery that he was not alone. He looked like he had a biting reply queued up, but for some reason, stayed quiet. Instead, he said, “Oi, cook. Get me some sake.” 

An already shitty night was getting worse by the second, and Sanji was tempted to walk over to the pile of moss and kick him in the head. “Why the hell would I do that, shithead? Get it yourself.”

“Can’t,” Zoro replied simply, deciding not to elaborate. Despite his prone position, Zoro shrugged. “You got anything better to do?” 

“Why can’t you get it?”

“Get me some sake and I’ll tell you.”

Sanji clicked his tongue, pushing himself off the railing. “Fine. But I’m not doing it because I care about whatever the fuck’s going on with you, I just want some peace, and booze is the best way to shut you up.”

Zoro didn’t respond as Sanji walked off, returning a few minutes later with a bottle of sake in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. The chef set the sake down forcefully next to Zoro’s head, his dress shoes clicking as he returned to his original position across the deck. Rather than standing again, Sanji allowed himself to slide down to a sitting position, back against the railing. 

Zoro grunted out something akin to thanks, grabbing the bottle by the neck and just barely sitting himself up before pouring it into his mouth. Streams of sake spilled down his chin, soaking into his shirt. The swordsman didn’t seem to take any notice.

Sanji sneered at the sight, fingers wrapped delicately around his own bottle. “How wasteful,” he remarked to no one in particular. “I’m not going to keep stocking sake, if you’re going to get more of it on your shirt than in your mouth.” 

“You say that all the time, shit cook.”

Rather than answering, Sanji raised his own bottle to his lips. He had a theory, an awful one, and he needed to confirm it— but he wasn’t going to have  _ this _ conversation with Zoro sober. No way. 

Taking a big gulp, Sanji tilted his head slightly and looked the other man over, not lowering his bottle all the way. He had a good feeling he was right, but it didn’t mean Zoro would admit it.

“It’s the one from Thriller Bark, isn’t it?”

Sanji’s words hung in the air for a moment, transitioning into an uncomfortably tense silence. Finally, Zoro opened his one eye that still worked and met Sanji’s gaze. “Yeah.” 

Sanji frowned, setting his bottle down. “Does it always, uh... Does this happen a lot?” 

“No,” Zoro answered, looking back up at the sky. “Most of the time, I can forget it's there. Sometimes it just acts up.” 

“Does Chopper know?”

Zoro turned his head back towards Sanji, and the cook wanted to kick the shit-eating grin off his face more than anything. “Aww, you worried about me, shit cook?”

Sanji’s lip curled in disgust. “I couldn’t care _ less _ about you, dickhead. I’m worried about Chopper.” He paused to take another sip from his bottle. “How do you think he’d feel if you keeled over from an injury he thinks he should have known about? He’d blame it all on himself, and I won’t let you do that to him. Stop being selfish.”

Something about that statement seemed to piss Zoro off more than the usual, and his words were cold as he snapped back at Sanji. “Like you’re one to talk about being selfish, asshole. What was it  _ you _ did at Thriller Bark, huh?”

Sanji bristled, really considering walking away from this whole conversation and retreating back into the kitchen. “I didn’t do anything you didn’t do,” he replied, struggling to keep his voice low.

“You really wanna act like that was the same thing?” Zoro asked, disbelief and irritation clear in his tone. “Then tell me, you remember what you said back then?” 

Sanji said nothing, staring down at the bottle in his hands. Of course he remembered.

“You were out there saying your goodbyes to everybody, and fucking  _ apologizing, _ ” Zoro growled, his gaze burning into Sanji’s head even though the blond would no longer look at him. “Listen, when I stood in front of that guy and took his deal, it was because I knew I’d  _ live. _ When you did it, you had already decided you were going to die. We’re  _ not _ the same.” 

A brief silence hung between the two of them before Sanji spoke up. “I still wish it had been me,” Sanji said quietly, even though something told him he shouldn’t. “I hate you so much for knocking me out back then. You should have seen the way everyone looked when I found you. We didn’t know if you would… Everyone was just—” Sanji paused, realizing his volume had been climbing. “It should have been me.”

Sanji risked a glance back up, and caught Zoro’s glare aimed at him in full force. The man had already finished more than half the sizable bottle of sake, while Sanji had not taken nearly as many sips from his bottle as he had promised himself.

“People like you are the  _ worst _ ,” Zoro said, his words slurring slightly. “See, you always get people— people who say, “yeah, of course I’ll die for my crew”, but when it comes down to it, they remember their own lives are more important than anyone else’s, and they run. But  _ then, _ ” Zoro continued, gesturing at Sanji, “you get people who say that, but they mean it,  _ way _ too much. They just keep trying to lay down their life, like they’re lookin’ for a place to die. Know why they do that?” 

Sanji wasn’t enjoying this game of a conversation in the slightest, and his answer was understandably clipped. “Because I want to protect my crew, bastard!”

“Because you think your life is less important than everyone else’s.” Zoro answered simply, his scowl deepening. “I can’t stand people who don’t value their own lives, people like you. If you don’t think your life is worth anything, then you have no right to chase a dream.” 

There were a lot of things Sanji wanted to say. He wanted to curse at Zoro, to call him names and insult him and maybe kick him, but he didn’t. If he did that, it would only serve to prove Zoro right; because Sanji genuinely didn’t have anything to say to refute what he had said.

Had this been a normal conversation, Zoro probably would have walked away at this point, leaving Sanji feeling like shit. But the swordsman seemed to have a lot of thoughts about this, that he’d been sitting on for a while, and mildly intoxicated Zoro was willing to say them.

“Back in Skypiea, when you took that hit up on the Ark,” Zoro started, surprising Sanji slightly, “Usopp told me all about what happened later. You know he felt like shit because of that, right? Knowing him, he’s probably still guilty over it.”

Sanji had remembered feeling as though Usopp was strange around him for a few weeks, following their time on the sky islands. Whenever he caught sight of the bandages covering large portions of Sanji’s body, the sniper would look away awkwardly, fidgeting with the straps of his overalls. Sanji had chalked it up to typical Usopp nervousness.

“My point is,” Zoro said, not giving Sanji much time to butt in, “No one on this crew would be happy to see you die for them. So stop fucking trying to do that.” 

“Even you?” Sanji asked, attempting to goad Zoro into falling back into their typical banter. He didn’t want to talk about this, not anymore, not so  _ frankly _ with this man he couldn’t fucking stand. 

Zoro, of course, never did what he wanted. “Yeah,” he answered honestly, “even me. You think I want to be indebted to a shitty dead cook for the rest of my life?”

Sanji snorted, even though the idea wasn’t all that funny. “Yeah, I guess not.” He looked up at the stars, tracing constellations with his eyes. “I’ll… try. But only if you talk to Chopper. I don’t want you to die; then I’d be indebted to a shitty dead swordsman for the rest of my life for giving me a stupid pep talk.” 

Zoro rolled his eyes, bringing his bottle to his lips but frowning when he realized it was empty. “Fine,” he grunted, dropping the bottle and letting it roll across the deck. Seemingly in better shape than when he had come out, Zoro managed to get back to his feet and hobbled back to the men’s cabin, leaving Sanji alone on the deck.

_ Dying is no way to repay my debts, huh?  _ Sanji thought to himself, recalling the words his captain had shouted at him what felt like forever ago. Realizing his cigarette had burned out long ago without him noticing, Sanji rooted around for another, but came up with an empty pack. He sighed, crumpling the cardboard in his palm. 

God, he hated when Zoro was right.


	5. Bouquet (Sanji/Usopp)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pre timeskip. bro i love sanuso so much it’s unreal

“I’m mad at you.”

“Is that why you didn’t even bring me any flowers?”

“We’re in the middle of the ocean, where the fuck would I get flowers?”

“I dunno, you’d figure it out, Mister Romantic.”

Sanji glared down at Usopp, who was smiling smugly despite the exhaustion evident on his face. If it was anyone else— save for the ladies of the ship, of course, and Chopper—, Sanji would want to clock them right then and there; but it was Usopp, so of course he didn’t. Usopp, paler than he should be, with stark white bandages covering his chest, looking much too small in Sunny’s infirmary bed. That Usopp.

Looking at him was hard. It reminded Sanji of when Enel had visited them on their ship, and Sanji had woken up some time later, wrapped in bandages and staring at Usopp who was very much in the same sorry state. He remembered threading his fingers between Usopp’s limp ones, holding his hand only until Usopp regained consciousness. But that had been different. This was much worse, because Sanji was fine, and Usopp was not.

“...You still mad?” Usopp asked quietly, as though the few minutes of silence had been enough time for Sanji to get over it. Sanji was, of course, still mad— but he would be lying if he said that anger was the primary feeling eating away at him at the moment. Instead, he was slowly drowning in his guilt.

“Yes,” Sanji said, looking down at his shoes.  _ But not at you, really. _

“Sanji,” Usopp said, with a harder edge to his voice than before. He propped himself up slightly, wincing a bit from the effort of sitting up. Sanji had half a mind to shove him back down, as he was sure Chopper would if he was in the room, but he didn’t. “Do you think I’m weak?” 

Sanji’s head shot back up, and he locked eyes with Usopp. “What? No, of course not.” And he fully meant every word; Usopp was brave and smart, he had made it through so much shit that would break a lesser man. Sanji had always admired the other man’s strength— a strength that went far beyond physical.

Usopp sighed, giving Sanji a look that indicated that he didn’t fully believe him. “Then why are you allowed to protect me all the time, but I can’t protect you for a change?” 

Sanji opened his mouth to answer without really thinking, but Usopp cut him off. “You think it doesn’t make me feel like shit that people have to keep coming to my rescue?” Usopp asked, turning his head out the window to watch the sea. “I know I’m not as strong as you or Zoro or Luffy or, well… anyone, I guess. But I… I still want to protect you guys when you’re in trouble, when you need help. If you really don’t think I’m weak, then I should be able to at least do that, right?” 

The realization of the misunderstanding dawned on Sanji all at once, and he sucked in a sharp breath. “Usopp,” Sanji said, urgently, like he only had a few moments to say what he needed to, “I’m not upset because I think you need protecting and I don’t; that’s bullshit. I just— I can’t lose you, alright?” The words sprung out of Sanji unbidden, but he plowed on, voice raising a bit. “I don’t want any of the crew to get hurt, but when it’s you in danger, I just… I don’t want you to get hurt, because you’re special to me! You got that, you asshole?!”

By the end of his declaration, Sanji was burning red and looking anywhere other than at Usopp. His leg bounced impatiently, and the need to get out of the room for some air— and a smoke— was overwhelming. 

But Usopp didn’t give him the chance, sitting up a bit straighter and raising his own voice in return. “Well maybe you’re special to me too, and I don’t want to see you get hurt either! But that’s hard when you keep jumping in the way of  _ everything!” _

“You’re exaggerating, I don’t jump in the way of— wait,” Sanji paused, his brain catching up and squashing his instinct to argue. “I’m special to you?”

“Yeah, you jerk!” Usopp replied, still heated but with no real anger in his voice. “I’ve been trying to just drop hints, but you’re hopeless! So I’ll just come out and say it— I like you, like,  _ a lot _ , but I didn’t think it could... with the way you act around women, you know…” All of Usopp’s steam from their brief argument had dissipated, and he could feel his meekness creeping back in.  _ Ah, I think I said more than I meant to... _

Sanji just stared at him owlishly, his visible eye wide. “You’re not lying, right?” 

Usopp huffed, sliding back down slightly. Sitting up was starting to take a toll on his ribs. “I know you can always tell when I’m lying, Sanji.” 

Silence filled the infirmary, and after a few moments, Usopp chanced a glance back over at Sanji. He was surprised to see the cook grinning from ear to ear, his blue eye seeming to sparkle with joy. 

“What’s with that face?” Usopp asked, finding Sanji’s smile infectious. 

“I don’t think anyone’s ever liked me back before,” Sanji answered. “I mean, it’s not like I ever had the opportunity to have a real relationship, but— it’s really nice. You know?” 

“Yeah,” Usopp agreed, his voice soft. “It is nice.” Eyeing Sanji’s hand hanging limply off his knee, Usopp reached down and grabbed it, interlocking their fingers. “Now it’s my turn to hold your hand.” 

Sanji flushed, the tips of his ears turning pink. “You knew about that?” 

Usopp shrugged, but the grin on his face was enough of an answer. “I, uh,  _ may  _ have pretended to be asleep for a little longer than I actually was.” When Sanji shot him a look that said  _ seriously? _ , Usopp raised his free hand in a placating gesture. “Hey, I only did it cause I knew you’d let go when I woke up, alright?”

Sanji turned his head away, making only his curtain of hair visible to Usopp, but he didn’t pull his hand back. “You get a pass this time, cause you’re stupidly cute. Dumbass.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Usopp laughed, feeling like he was on cloud nine. They stayed like that for a while, until Sanji realized he had to go start on dinner. He was reluctant to leave, but the sniper promised him— several times, with growing impatience— that he wasn’t going anywhere; even if he wanted to, Chopper would kill him for getting out of bed. 

When he found a heart shaped carrot in his stew that night, Usopp laughed so hard he almost knocked the bowl over. 

By the time they ran into the next island, Usopp was still bedridden, sleeping off his exhaustion. When he next woke, he was greeted by a comically large bouquet next to the bed, blooms threatening to spill over from the much too small vase. There was little cohesion in the color or shape of the flowers, just a vibrant mass of wild hues and life. Usopp laughed, reaching over to nudge a marigold back into place before it slipped out.

“Guess you figured it out, Mister Romantic.”


	6. Lazy Morning (Sanji/Usopp)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> takes place somewhere in film gold because im pretty certain they had to get multiple hotel rooms (dont question the timeline tho)
> 
> I promised myself my next one shot was gonna be something other than sanuso, shake it up, but then I saw [this absolutely wonderful piece of fanart that inspired me so much when i saw it i had to write this immediately.](https://dragonkov.tumblr.com/post/620405743818031104/good-morning-sanji) thank u raz for being one of my favorite artists of all time and always making such lovely and wonderful sanuso <3

“Y’know,” Sanji said, sitting on the edge of his bed, already missing the warmth of the silky hotel sheets as the AC hit his bare skin, “I’m grateful and all for these free rooms, but…” 

“You wish they hadn’t given us two singles?” A voice groaned blearily from the other bed, still buried deep into the comforter. “I know, dude. You said so last night, too.”

Sanji flopped back on his sad, lonely bed. “It’s just not fair,” Sanji lamented, sighing. “This whole damn place is made of gold. They can afford to give us big beds, cheap bastards.”

The lump that Sanji knew to be Usopp didn’t move, words muffled by his pillow. “Should have asked for the honeymoon suite.” 

Sanji snorted, flipping onto his stomach. “If I did that, everybody would have thought we were going to, ah… well, you know…”

“Bang?” Usopp asked, finally popping his head out from under the comforter.

“Y...yeah. That,” Sanji said, his face going red. Usopp was so blunt about these things; Sanji could talk a big game, but whenever he thought about it for more than a moment, he got flustered. “ _ Anyways, _ we never get the chance to share a bed— the hammocks on the Sunny are too small.”

Usopp laughed, a quiet, subdued noise. “You’re just too gangly, that’s the problem.” 

“I’m offended,” Sanji huffed, clearly not very offended. “I didn’t choose to be like this.” 

The only reply was a weak groan from across the room. The noise was so pitiful that Sanji couldn’t hold back a smile. 

“Guess you’ll never be a morning person, huh?” Sanji asked softly, watching the blanket cocoon stir slightly. “We’ve still got a bit of time before we need to meet up with the others; you mind if I take the first shower?” 

“Go ahead…” Usopp mumbled sleepily, sounding as though he’d fall back asleep at any moment. 

Sanji pushed himself up, stretching his back slightly as he rose. “Tell you what; after I shower, I’ll make us some coffee, and we can have a nice morning together; the view from the balcony is lovely. Sound good?” 

Usopp turned to him, one eye just barely cracked. “Mm. Yeah.” 

Making his way over to Usopp’s bed, Sanji leaned down and pressed a kiss onto his boyfriend’s forehead before heading off to the bathroom to shower. He tried to keep his shower short— didn’t want to keep Usopp waiting, after all— but he ended up lost in his thoughts anyway. 

Realizing that he’d been in the shower for longer than he intended, Sanji turned the knob and stepped out. He grabbed a towel from the rack, drying off hastily before tying it around his waist. Combing his damp hair over the right side of his face, Sanji hoped Usopp hadn’t fallen back asleep. It was difficult for Sanji to wake him up; he always looked like an angel when he slept, face relaxed and peaceful. Sanji never wanted to disturb him when he looked like that. 

Stepping back into the hotel room proper, Sanji was surprised to see Usopp’s bed vacant, the sheets hanging off the edge. He was about to call out, but Usopp beat him to the punch.

“Hey, I went ahead and made coffee,” Usopp’s voice floated over from the small entryway nook where the coffee maker and the mini fridge were. From where he stood, Sanji couldn’t see him. “It’s almost done. I’ll bring it over in a sec.” 

Sanji blinked in surprise; under normal circumstances, Usopp never got out of bed before noon, so Sanji certainly hadn’t expected to see him up and moving. “Thanks,” Sanji called back gratefully, turning his attention to picking out his clothes for the day. He was torn between a gray and a blue pinstripe dress shirt, both of which he liked quite a bit. Grabbing both hangers, he pulled the two out and turned to ask Usopp’s opinion, but his words caught in his throat. 

Standing in the entryway with a steaming mug in hand was Usopp, clearly still shaking off the lingering remnants of sleep. He was giving Sanji a lazy, genuine smile— any other day, that alone would have Sanji’s heart leaping from his chest. But this particular morning, Sanji’s attention was drawn to…

“That’s, um,” Sanji said blankly, his mouth dry. “That’s my shirt.” 

“Hmm?” Usopp hummed, looking down at the golden striped dress shirt that hung loosely off his frame. “Oh, yeah. It’s cold in here, and you left it thrown over the chair when you took it off last night, so I borrowed it.”

There was no way for Sanji to possibly articulate how handsome and adorable and  _ perfect _ Usopp looked wearing his favorite dress shirt, and very little else. Any words that he might have had died on his tongue, replaced by the simple, repetitive thoughts of  _ it’s my shirt, he’s wearing my shirt, oh my god. _

“Those are going to wrinkle, you know,” Usopp said with a smile, stepping closer to Sanji. Sanji was confused until he looked down, realizing he had dropped both shirts to the ground at some point. 

Rather than picking them up, Sanji simply leaned forward and buried his face in the crook of Usopp’s neck. His face was beet red, and he feared that if he looked at Usopp directly for any longer, his heart wouldn’t be able to take it. “It’s my shirt….” Sanji murmured, nuzzling against Usopp affectionately. 

Usopp laughed, rolling his eyes and patting Sanji on the head with his free hand. “You need it back right now?” 

“No!” Sanji said, shooting upright. “No. Keep it. Forever, if you want. Actually, you can have all my shirts. Please.” 

Usopp snorted, shoving the mug into Sanji’s hands. “I don’t need all your shirts, Sanji. I usually don’t even wear shirts.” 

“Trust me,” Sanji said, plucking a cigarette from the carton on the table and bringing it to his mouth with a trembling hand, “I noticed.” 

The blond was about to ask if the other man had seen his lighter when Usopp reached into the pocket of the dress shirt and pulled it out. “Go put on some clothes and let’s go out on the balcony, yeah?” Usopp asked, pocketing the lighter with a soft smile. “I wanna see that view.” 

Sanji nodded dumbly, still blinded by Usopp’s radiance. He already knew that once they were out on the balcony, Sanji wouldn’t be able to tear his eyes away from Usopp for even a second, regardless of how nice the view was. There was a much nicer view, much closer, that Sanji wouldn’t trade for anything. 

“Deal,” Sanji said, rolling the unlit cigarette between his fingers. “Just… Don’t take the shirt off, alright?”

Usopp fixed him with impassive, half-lidded expression, but even he couldn’t hide the corners of his mouth tugging upwards in a fond smile. “Sure thing, Sanji.” 


	7. After Hours (Sanji/Luffy)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ones for sunflower_diode, who wanted some modern au sanlu hangin at the baratie after closing, and/or zeff being teasing/supportive of sanji (spoiler alert, it’s both!) :-)
> 
> also I like how in the 4kids dub zeff calls sanji “string bean” I think it’s very cute so I use it in addition to eggplant. both very good

“Alright, eggplant. I’m going to head up to bed; you sure you can handle closing up by yourself?” 

Sanji scoffed, glaring at his father. “I’m not a kid anymore, old man. I can clean up and lock a door just fine.” 

Zeff scowled, still paused halfway up the stairs to their apartment above _Baratie._ “There’s plenty of things that you’re shit at, string bean. Just checking if this is one of them.” 

Grumbling, Sanji turned his back on Zeff as he began to clean up. “Go get some damn sleep, you old fart.”

“Don’t be too loud when you’re coming up to bed!” Zeff yelled out as he disappeared up the staircase, his footsteps growing softer and softer until Sanji could no longer hear them. Sanji sighed in relief, glad to be free of his father’s nagging. He loved the man, but he could only take so much of him at a time.

Cleaning wasn’t too bad. Most of the chefs had enough decency to at least tidy their stations before they left, so the workload was thankfully reduced. After all the dishes had been taken care of, Sanji moved on to cleaning the equipment, which was quickly dealt with. The front door had already been locked, so all that was left were the lights and the back door, but Sanji was… dawdling. 

After fifteen minutes of procrastinating, there was a distinct knocking pattern at the back door. Popping his head up from where he had rested it on the bar, Sanji hopped off the barstool he had seated himself at, hurrying to open the door for his late night visitor. 

The moment the door was open, Luffy flung himself into the restaurant with a level of energy Sanji couldn’t begin to understand. He turned to Sanji, opening his mouth to exclaim a— presumably loud— greeting, when Sanji brought a finger to his own lips, using his other hand to gesture upwards. Luffy followed the direction of his finger, brows knitted together in confusion until his face lit up in realization. He put his finger under his nose in an imitation of a mustache and scowled, cocking his head to the side questioningly.

Sanji couldn’t hold back the snort of amusement that slipped out of him, covering his mouth with his hand to contain any other snickers. He nodded, regaining his composure as Luffy dropped his Zeff impression. “Why are we doing charades?” Sanji asked quietly, still smiling.

“You told me to be quiet,” Luffy whispered, almost comically quiet, as he mimicked Sanji’s shushing gesture from earlier.

Rolling his eyes, Sanji punched him playfully in the shoulder. “You can still talk, idiot. Just not _loud_ , which is like, your normal.” 

“Oh!” Luffy said, a touch too loud. He smiled sheepishly when Sanji sent him a warning glance, and adjusted his volume accordingly. “Sorry I’m late, they made me stay til closing.”

“No worries,” Sanji said with a wave of his hand, heading towards the kitchen. Luffy followed him cheerfully, pulling a small stool out of the corner and seating himself on it. 

Luffy watched Sanji as he shuffled around the kitchen, pulling out various bowls and utensils. “What’cha making?” Luffy asked with a grin, resting his chin in his palms. 

“Chicken pesto pasta with mushrooms,” Sanji answered briskly, keeping his back to Luffy as he busied himself. As if sensing Luffy’s pout, he added, “and no complaining, you ungrateful jerk. It’s a free meal.”

“Sanji-iiii,” Luffy whined, clearly feeling like pushing his luck. Sanji had half a mind to kick his stool out from under him, but instead he just sighed. 

“Fine, I’ll leave the mushrooms out of yours,” Sanji said, his tone resigned. “But I’m not putting any more meat in; chicken’s the only thing we have an excess of right now, alright?” 

Luffy grinned, bright as the sun, clearly taking it as a victory. “Thanks, Sanji!” Content with the compromise, the two fell into a comfortable silence broken by the occasional small talk as Sanji cooked. Largely, it was Luffy who did the talking; but that was just as well, as Sanji enjoyed listening to Luffy go on about whatever had caught his interest that day. 

As soon as Sanji declared that it was ready, Luffy was up and by his side. Sanji had to slap his hands away from the bowl as he portioned out a third of it for Luffy, handing him the plate and a fork. Luffy ran off into the dining area, calling out his thanks after him. Sanji just smiled and shook his head. 

Dividing up the remaining pasta into two equal portions, Sanji scraped them into two styrofoam take-out boxes. Pulling out a marker, he wrote “Sabo” on one, and “Ace” on the other; an unnecessary step, as the contents of both boxes were identical, but it was a force of habit.

He cleaned his mess in record time, not wanting to put it off until later. By the time he made his way out into the dining area, the two boxes held carefully in his hands, Luffy had already finished his meal, which was to be expected. Sanji set the boxes on the table, not liking the way Luffy was eyeing them.

“You better not eat those, alright?” Sanji warned, his tone serious. “They’ll definitely tell on you to me, and it’ll have consequences.” 

“What kind of consequences?” Luffy asked, cocking his head.

“I’ll make a tofu dish next time.”

“I’d never even think of eating them,” Luffy answered, slightly panicked. “Of course I’ll get them home!” When Sanji just laughed, Luffy continued. “Anyways, that was really good, Sanji! Thanks for the food!”

“Sure, sure. You’re my least favorite customer, you know that?” Sanji snarked, but he couldn’t hide the fondness in his voice. “You never even tip.” 

Luffy looked at him contemplatively for a moment, his brows creasing in that cute way they always did when he was thinking hard about something. All of a sudden, he brought his fist down on his open palm as though he’d just cracked one of life’s mysteries, and shot up from his seat. Closing the distance between them, Luffy pressed a chaste kiss to Sanji’s lips.

Sanji froze, spine stiffening in surprise. The kiss was brief, and Luffy pulled away after a few seconds, his face splitting into a grin again. Sanji moved a hand to ghost his fingers over his lips, still processing everything. “What—“

“I don’t have any money, so that’s the best I can do for a tip!” Luffy exclaimed, apparently oblivious to how much that sounded like the set up for an awful porno. “Next time I can bring you a stick of gum, if you want.”

“The, uh,” Sanji started, awkwardly clearing his throat. His face was still as red as a tomato, and he pulled at his shirt collar to loosen it slightly. “The kiss was fine. I’ll take that again. Next time, I mean.” 

Luffy laughed, wrapping his arms around Sanji and lifting the slightly taller man off the ground just a bit. “I promise I’ll come here when you’re open, sometime!” 

Sanji snorted. “No offense, but I don’t think you can afford it. Don’t think you’d meet the dress code, either.” 

“I’ll steal Ace’s wallet and order the most expensive stuff on the menu before he finds out,” Luffy explained, and Sanji couldn’t tell if he was making actual plans or joking. “He owes me one, anyways. And I’ll borrow one of Sabo’s fancy suits. I’ve thought it all out.”

Sanji was finally set down and released from the hug. “Don’t you _dare_ — I don’t need both of your brothers crashing in here after you, making a scene.”

Luffy laughed, grabbing the two boxes off the table. “Fi-iine, I won’t.” He leaned over, kissing Sanji on the cheek. “Thanks again for the food! See you in a couple days, Sanji!” With that, he bounded out the back door just as rambunctiously as he had come in, not even giving Sanji time to say goodbye.

Moving to clean up Luffy’s plate, Sanji sighed fondly. The man really was a whirlwind of a person, blowing in and stirring Sanji up before he left suddenly. He made Sanji’s head spin, but Sanji wouldn’t trade their time together for anything. 

Once everything was clean, Sanji locked the back door and flicked the lights off. He began his arduous journey up the stairs, exhaustion from being on his feet all day finally catching up to him. As he entered the apartment, he nearly jumped when he realized Zeff was sitting at the kitchen table. 

“Shit!” Sanji exclaimed, startled. “You didn’t have to wait for me at the table like I’m sneaking back in from some party or something.” 

“Who said I was waiting for you?” Zeff shot back, his typical annoyance laced with a hint of amusement. “Can’t catch a wink with that loudmouth friend of yours downstairs.” 

Sanji reddened, embarrassed at being caught. “I, uh—“ 

Zeff cut him off, waving a dismissive hand and shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it, I’d never tell you off for feeding someone. You know that, eggplant.” 

Sanji nodded, mumbling out some thanks as he moved past Zeff and towards his bedroom. As he did, Zeff called out after him.

“Introduce me sometime, you rude brat! I gotta see for myself if he’s worthy of dating my son!” 

Indignancy took precedence over any of Sanji’s other feelings as he started to babble in response. “ _Dating?_ He’s not— We’re just friends, you stupid old man, I’m not—“ When Zeff’s grin refused to fall, Sanji turned his back on him and ran off towards his room. “Shut up! You don’t know anything!”

Unfortunately for Sanji, his bedroom door wasn’t thick enough to block out Zeff’s gruff laughter that followed his terrible excuse for a defense. 


	8. Soba (Sanji & Usopp)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this ones kinda weird idk I wrote like most of it a few months ago and finished it now so if it feels disjointed that’s why. sowwy 
> 
> Some not explicitly romantic sanuso (for once) but can definitely be read that waaaaaaaaay

“It feels like it’s been ages since we’ve, y’know…” Sanji gestured vaguely with his hands, as though it was an ample substitute for simply finishing the sentence. It was not, so he continued, “...talked. Just the two of us.”

From across the barrier of the soba stand, Usopp shot him a look, the kind of look that said  _ I’m going to have something to say to you as soon as I don’t have noodles in my mouth.  _ Sanji cringed, looking down at his workstation instead. Around them, cicadas sang loudly, filling the night air with a comfortable level of noise that would otherwise be missing from the lack of human activity. All in all, a perfectly pleasant night for an unpleasant— but necessary— conversation.

Swallowing down his mouthful of noodles, Usopp glared at the chef. “Gee, I wonder why that is,” Usopp muttered, unable to keep a bit of bitterness from seeping into his words. Part of him chastised himself for being so cold during what should be a happy reunion; certainly, he did just want to embrace Sanji fully after their lengthy and stressful separation. But another part, a part he’d been trying to listen to more often, wouldn’t let himself forgive Sanji as though nothing had happened. Usopp deserved more than that.

Allowing himself a single cigarette, Sanji leaned away and exhaled loudly, annoyance clear on his face and in his tone. “I already said I was sorry.”

“Yeah, well,” Usopp replied, dipping back into the soba for another bite, “Apology heard.”

Sanji watched him for a few moments, watched the sniper savor every bite he took; it was somewhat unusual, as his eating habits tended to more closely resemble those of their captain. Then, without warning, he jerked his head away and ground his teeth, crushing the cigarette between them.

“I don’t know what you fucking want from me,” Sanji hissed, frustrated. “I didn’t exactly have a lot of options; I had to do it, to save Nami and the others. I thought you’d understand—“

“Of course I  _ understand! _ ” Usopp cut him off, voice raising a bit before he remembered the need to stay quiet. “I understood as soon as we found out what happened. And I understood when Robin ran off in Water 7; I understood when Nami ran off with Merry back in the East Blue, too. I’m not dense, Sanji— I get having something to protect, and feeling like the only way to deal with it is by yourself. Trust me,  _ I get it.”  _

Sanji opened his mouth to retort, but Usopp gestured for him to wait, to let him finish. “But getting it doesn’t just make things… okay. Things take time to go back to normal, you know? You just have to let it be, well… a little weird for a while.”

“I know,” Sanji replied somberly. He wanted to say more, but he wasn’t sure what to say, so he stayed silent.

“I just….” Usopp started, sighting as he set his chopsticks down. “I wish you could have a little more faith in us, y’know? I mean, the thing with Bege— I get that. You were in charge of keeping the others safe, so you did what you had to. But when Luffy came to get you, and you—“

“Beat the hell out of him?” Sanji finished for him, unable to stave off the terrible roiling in his gut with his cigarette. “I’m sure Nami told you what happened.”

“She did,” Usopp replied, looking tired. “I’m not mad at you for that, though. That’s between you and Luffy, and he seems to be over it, so there’s no point in holding a grudge on his behalf.” 

Usopp paused, looking down at his half-finished bowl of soba. “I don’t know exactly what he said to you, but… Luffy was speaking for all of us, you know. We all would do anything,  _ risk _ anything to help one of our own. Hell, I don’t need to be telling you that; you’re always putting yourself in harm’s way if it means protecting the crew. But that means you, too, Sanji.”

“I feel like you never let us help you, Sanji,” Usopp sighed, closing his eyes. “You never let  _ me  _ help you. I don’t know if you feel like you have to handle everything on your own because you’re supposed to be this strong guy or what, but it’s stupid. I want you to trust us enough to be able to rely on us.”

Sanji was quick to respond, startled by Usopp’s words. “Of course I trust you! I’m just— I’m tired, tired of… taking.” It was difficult for Sanji to put it into words for the first time, the feeling that had burned at him from the inside since Zeff’s first act of kindness. Since his mother condemned herself to death just to save his humanity. “I don’t want to take from anyone anymore. I’ve taken enough.” 

From across the counter, Usopp frowned. He picked up his chopsticks and spun them around, poking the blunt ends against Sanji’s forehead. “Y’know, it’s rude not to accept things when they’re offered to you. People give you things because they  _ care _ about you, Sanji— It’s not selfish to accept. What they get in return is knowing that you’re okay, and that’s a fair trade, because they love you.” 

Sanji said nothing— had nothing to say, really. He reached out and slid Usopp’s bowl back to his side, filling it with fresh noodles. Pushing it back towards the sniper, Sanji gave a weak smile. 

“Sorry. Must have forgotten my manners.”

Usopp looked at him for a moment, withdrawing his chopsticks from where they were poked into Sanji’s forehead. He shifted his focus to the bowl in front of him, filled to the brim with the delicious cooking of the most talented chef he knew. Plunging his chopsticks in once more, Usopp’s demeanor softened.

“Y’know, I kept thinking, once I found out what happened on Zou…” Usopp said between bites of soba, “just, there was a real chance you wouldn’t come back. Either you’d run off and get married, or, well, being in Big Mom’s territory…” He didn’t finish his thought, choosing instead to move on. 

“I didn’t know if that was the last time I’d ever see you,” There was a slight warble in Usopp’s voice, but he swallowed it down and continued. “This is stupid, but— I kept trying to remember what the last thing I said to you was, back in Dressrosa. I’m sure it was something dumb, ‘cause I didn’t know…” he sighed, staring at the bowl. “Couldn’t stop thinking about all the things I wished I had said, if I had known I wouldn’t get to talk to you again.” 

“What kind of things?” Sanji asked, resting his cheek on his palm. 

Usopp blushed, realizing Sanji had put him on the spot. “Well, y’know— Like, how I’m so grateful that you’re always there to save my ass when I get in over my head. Or, uh, how much I enjoy your company… Even just telling you how great your food is.”

Sanji hummed thoughtfully, not taking his eyes off Usopp. “If I drop dead tomorrow, at least you’ll have gotten your nice last words in.” 

Eyes widening, Usopp nearly choked on his noodles. “Dude, don’t say that! You’ll jinx it!” 

Sanji laughed, a bright and genuine laugh. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. How’s the soba?” 

Usopp looked surprised for a moment, before returning Sanji’s grin with one of his own. “It’s great,” he said softly, unable to contain his fondness. “Thanks, Sanji.” 

“Any time.” 


	9. Onigiri (Sanji & Zoro)

Sanji was roused from his light sleep by the sound of a door creaking open. For a moment, he was disoriented; the smell of antiseptic was a sharp reminder that he wasn’t in the men’s quarters, even before he opened his eyes fully. A wave of pain from his broken leg pulled him back to reality, and he groaned quietly. 

He turned his attention to the door, expecting to see Chopper pushing it open with a hoof. His mood instantly soured when he realized it was not, in fact, his favorite little doctor. Rather, it was the last person he wanted to see at any given time.

“Ugh,” Sanji groused, shutting his eyes again as though it would make Zoro disappear from the room. “What do _you_ want?”

“I see you’re just as pleasant as ever,” Zoro shot back, face twitching in annoyance. He outstretched his hand, offering Sanji a plate that the chef hadn’t noticed him holding before. “Here. Lunch.” 

Acting on instinct, Sanji accepted the plate. There were three onigiri, clearly prepared by an amateur, but competent nonetheless. “Who made this?” he asked, wanting to know who had been using his kitchen.

“Why does it matter?” Zoro asked, crossing his arms and frowning. “Just eat.” 

“I’ll _eat_ when you tell me who made my lunch,” Sanji responded, aware of how childish he sounded. Aside from simply wanting to know who had been messing with his tools, Sanji also considered it important to know who had prepared the food itself. If it was Luffy, well— there was a chance that eating it would keep him in the infirmary for an extra week or two. And Zoro, being Zoro, would definitely bring it to him if that was the case. Though, of course, he’d eat it no matter what. 

Zoro huffed in frustration, looking like he’d rather pull out his sword than continue this conversation. “Fine, I made it. Happy?” 

Sanji’s eyes widened a bit in surprise, before narrowing in anger. “Who the hell told you that you could touch my kitchen, mossball?!”

“Luffy,” Zoro answered, a bit smugly. “Captain ordered me to make lunch, since your useless ass is stuck in here.” 

Sanji cringed, guilt tugging at his heart. The _useless_ comment got to him more than he’d like to admit, only because, in this instance, he actually was. He couldn’t simply roll out of bed and go prove Zoro wrong; even if his shattered leg somehow supported him, Chopper would have his head. 

He let the swordsman win the argument, the fight leaving his body as he focused back on his lunch. “Where’d you learn to make onigiri, anyway?” he asked, unable to repress his curiosity. It was possible that Zoro had been in the kitchen when Sanji had made them in the past, but if he had been carefully observing, Sanji hadn’t taken notice.

There was a pause, and for a moment Sanji wondered if the swordsman was intentionally ignoring him. Just as he was about to snap at him, Zoro sighed. 

“My master taught me,” Zoro said, with an odd sentimentality that Sanji had never heard from him. “I used to make it with him and his daughter, sometimes. She…” He paused for a moment, considering his words. “I could never beat her in a sword fight, but my onigiri always looked better than hers.” Zoro snorted, amused. “She didn’t have the patience for it, would much rather have a sword in her hand.” 

Despite himself, Sanji chuckled. “I’m surprised _you_ did, to be honest.” 

Zoro shrugged. “Eh, I liked being good at something.” He leaned against the closed door, arms still crossed.

All at once, Sanji realized how hungry he actually was. He wasn’t sure the last time he had eaten; time seemed to blend any time he was confined to the infirmary. Picking up a rice ball, Sanji took a bite.

“Hmm,” he hummed, chewing thoughtfully. Swallowing, he continued. “Flavor is a bit bland, and your technique leaves a lot to be desired, but… it’s good. Better than I expected from you.” 

“The hell? I don’t care about your feedback, stupid cook!” Zoro’s hand instinctively moved to his hip, but his swords weren’t there. He scowled, clearly peeved. 

“On the contrary,” Sanji said after finishing the first onigiri, “you absolutely do. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have stuck around to see my reaction after I ate. Actually— you probably wouldn’t have even brought these to me yourself, if you didn’t care. I’m sure you could have made Usopp do your legwork.” 

Sanji's grin was smug as Zoro harrumphed, turning his head away in annoyance. “It’s not bad, for an amateur,” Sanji said, surprising himself by how much he sounded like Zeff. “Thanks for the food.” 

“Shut up, dartbrow,” Zoro growled, but with no real bite. He made his exit, leaving Sanji alone in the infirmary. Sanji just smiled, enjoying the rest of his lunch. He supposed sharing his kitchen every once in a while wasn’t so bad— as long as he didn’t make a habit of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!! So I decided that one big ol collection of sanji fics just wasn’t enough for me, so I’m doin another one. only this one is focused on love (in all forms) Nd sanji instead of hurtin him. and this one is SUPER open to requests!! like please throw some my way
> 
> only general things I ask for this is please no requests for incest ships (u kno which ones) or age gap ships (like sanji nd like any of the princesses). Still might turn some down outta personal preference (like zosan I respect y’all very much but just can’t do it). also sanjis gotta be there obv. If you can, please try to leave a little prompt or some scenario if u have one in mind (if not that fine too)! nd if u want somethin platonic be sure to specify 
> 
> love u all thanks for readin 💙


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